All I see is green
by keenerparkerstark
Summary: Peter Parker feels on top of the world! Getting high grades at high school, spending time with Tony Stark (!) on his weekends, and at night, he roams the city as the hero known as Spider-Man! Everything changes when a new student shows up at Midtown who seems determined to take it all away from him. (Peter Parker/Harley Keener)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hi pals! I needed to read something like this, so I figured, why not just write it? It's still a WIP (like, majorly so), and I'm busy with uni but I'm striving for weekly updates at the least. I hope you enjoy and please do leave me some feedback in the comments.

* * *

English had never been a subject that Peter thoroughly enjoyed, but never before had it seemed to _drag_ the way it did that day. He couldn't help but stealthily throw a glance at the phone he was hiding beneath the table, but the lock screen was still as empty as it had been the last time he checked approximately 15 seconds before. He stifled a sigh as his hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly to try and ease his rapidly growing anxiety. It wasn't strange for him to not hear from Mr. Stark for a week. He was a busy man, after all, helping his wife run a billion-dollar business, engineering all kinds of ground breaking technology, hosting charity events, and all that was just a quiet Wednesday afternoon to him. Peter wouldn't normally worry about it, honestly. But this time was different… It was Friday. And not just Friday: it was the third Friday of the month. The day May and Mr. Stark, after many (rather one-sided) shouting matches with a fearful and exasperated Mr. Stark desperately trying to shrink into their tattered couch, had managed to settle on. The day Peter would come over every month and stay at the Avengers Compound upstate.

Peter had woken up that morning excited to visit his mentor and continue the various projects they had been working on last month, bouncing with endless energy, but that had been dying out slowly ever since, caused by the undeniable lack of communication from Mr. Stark's side. He had been sending texts with growing urgency since the day before, and the texts show to have been read by the older man, but he had apparently not felt any need to respond to Peter's questions about how he would be making his way upstate that afternoon. Rationally, he knew that Mr. Stark would only be ignoring him like this if it was caused by something unavoidable and important, like saving-the-world- or Pepper-is-upset-with-me-because-of-something-and-I-need-to-find-out-why-business, but Peter's mind tends to be anything but rational and thus he was currently eating himself up inside wondering which obnoxious joke, clumsy fuck-up or general awkwardness had become that final proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, which obviously represented any and all faith Mr. Stark could have still possibly had in Peter at that point.

After his third, not-as-stifled-as-he'd-like sigh, Ned glanced at him from the corner of his eye, and nudged his shoulder with his own in a show of silent comradery. Peter shot him a small smile back, comforted by his friend's ability to comfort him with the smallest of gestures.

"Mr. Parker, am I so boring that must resort to playing video games on your phone during my class?" Peter's head shot up from where he had been checking his phone again (still _nothing_), his eyes wide and his heart hammering in his chest.

"I- I'm sorry, Mrs. Winterhalter, I'll pay attention." Behind him, he heard loud snickering and ill-concealed cracks on his intelligence, which he could, without even looking, safely attribute to Flash and his new-found best friend. Mrs. Winterhalter squinted her eyes sternly at the boys in the back of the classroom before turning her gaze back to Peter.

"See to it, Mr. Parker," she simply added, before launching back into her story as if she had never been interrupted. Peter carefully glanced over his shoulder and just caught a glimpse of Flash and the new kid, who had apparently immediately felt drawn to the bully and his goons the moment he entered the school. With Peter having been appointed his personal 'buddy' during his first week, giving him responsibility over getting the new kid to his classes and catching him up on the curriculum and practicalities around the school, this all did not add to the overall quality of Peter's day. The kid had seemed nice enough when he met him this morning.

* * *

"_Good morning, Mr. Parker, thank you for coming in earlier today," Principal Morita said, as he gestured for Peter to sit down on the chair in front of the desk. The other chair was occupied by another boy, who glanced up at Peter through blond curls that almost reached his eyes in their untamed length, and smiled kindly. Peter smiled back as he lowered himself in the other chair. _

"_This is Harley Keener," Principal Morita explained, nodding his head towards the blond, "He has recently moved to New York from Tennessee and wants to share his talents and knowledge with us here at Midtown." The boy, Harley, lowered his head a little as if embarrassed and scratched the back of his neck. _

"_I'm just here to learn, Principal Morita," he muttered. _

"_Nonsense," the older man boomed, slamming his hand into the table in his enthusiasm, startling both teens, "You came in mid-term with personal recommendations by Tony Stark himself!" This caught Peter's attention. His head shot up and he glanced between his principal and Harley. "Tony… Stark?" _

"_This is precisely why I wanted you to be Harley buddy during his first week here at Midtown," Principal Morita continued, oblivious to Peter's inner turmoil. "Since you are Mr. Stark's personal intern and all…" This caused Harley to look up and slowly turn his head to face Peter._

"_You're not Tony's intern," he snapped, and Peter felt as if he had been punched in the gut, anxiety raising rapidly to form a lump in his throat. _

"_I- I am, I'm- I-." Harley's glare intensified and he leaned forward towards Peter. _

"_You're what?" _

"_Now, now, play nice, boys," Principal Morita interrupted, his voice significantly more serious than before, having obviously caught on to the confrontation. "You have both brought in statements signed by Mr. Stark stating that you are his personal intern. Maybe he simply has not yet got to introduce you to each other yet." _Of course_… Peter's defensive stance deflated as he felt heat rise to his cheeks in embarrassment. Mr. Stark had spoken before about potentially hiring actual high school prodigies as interns to make their spider-cover more realistic, but Peter hadn't thought he would hire students to be his _personal_ intern. It made his stomach feel heavy for no identifiable reason. _

"_Here's your schedule and your locker number and combination," Principal Morita sighed, handing Harley an envelope. "I hope you have a wonderful first day at Midtown High." _

"_Thank you, Principal Morita," Harley nodded politely, and stood up, making his way out of the office without even glancing back at Peter. The latter shot up from his chair at this sight, bid a hasty goodbye to his principal and followed him. By the time he caught up, Harley was already halfway down the hallway. _

"_S-so, what's your first class?" Peter asked, his voice trembling from nerves. Harley did not acknowledge him whatsoever, and seemed to even pick up his pace. However, Peter (with superpowers and all), could easily pass him, and abruptly blocked his path, causing the blond to run into him. "Come on, I'm just trying to help you here. Mr. Stark-" At the mention of Mr. Stark's name, Harley practically snarled at him, raising a finger to point directly at Peter's face._

"_Listen up, punk," he spat. "Tony Stark may be your little nerdy wet dream but he is an actual person. You can't just go around making up some shit about a fake internship, that I know for a fact is absolute bullshit; Tony doesn't hire interns, nearly nobody is even allowed to enter his lab, just so you can go around and skip class without getting in trouble. You're a fucking fraud, who falsified some documents to make it look like he is interning with Tony Stark." Harley was yelling at this point, red in the face as he prodded his finger into Peter's chest. Peter couldn't breathe, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he held them up to try and calm Harley down. Neither of them even noticed the growing crowd of students that was forming around the confrontation. _

"_You are not Tony Stark's intern, you're not in any way affiliated with Stark Industries. You're a liar and a fraud and I am going to expose you for it." With those words, Harley pushed past Peter and stormed away, leaving the latter alone in the hallway, surrounded by his peers, who were all staring at him dumbstruck. _

"_Yeah, fuck you, dickwad, I told you all that Penis Parker was lying about his so-called 'internship'," sounded a voice that unmistakably belonged to Flash Thompson from somewhere to his left. Peter felt somebody pushing him from his right, and flinched away instinctively until he noticed that it was Ned. _

"_Come on, Peter, let's just go to class."_

* * *

Flash's schedule apparently synced up perfectly with Harley's and thus an alliance was formed solely over their shared wish to see Peter Parker humiliated. Maybe this situation was part of the reason he felt so anxious to hear from Mr. Stark. Scratch that, it was definitely the reason. He wanted to know if Mr. Stark really did know Harley and if so, why he had kept his hiring a secret from Peter. Harley seemed more familiar with Peter's mentor than he could ever hope to be, but he seemed to share the fierce protectiveness over the man.

Just as the bell rang to signify the end of their final period of the day, and Mrs. Winterhalter desperately raised her voice to give them some last-minute homework assignment to complete over the weekend, Peter felt his phone buzz in his pocket and wasted no time in unlocking his screen and opening the message.

**TONY STARK  
****I'm outside, kid**

Peter was immediately overwhelmed with relief and he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Is he here?" Ned asked, lifting his backpack onto his shoulders. Peter nodded as he frantically started packing his belongings into his backpack and rushed out of the classroom, hugging his best friend goodbye. He didn't bother listening to the jeering that followed him out of the room, and made possibly the quickest locker stop in high school history, before walking out onto the parking lot, looking around impatiently for some type of overpriced sports car. He finally spotted a figure sporting sunglasses and a familiar goatee in the far back of the lot, leaning up against a sleek, matte black car. He started rushing over, but was taken over by a laughing Harley, who had his arm casually around Flash's shoulders. Peter faltered in his steps, wondering what would happen if he would stay back and let Harley see Mr. Stark first.

Speaking of Mr. Stark, he seemed to have finally noticed Peter. He took off his sunglasses and waved his arm in a signalling motion, whilst grinning lazily in his direction. "Hurry up, Harley!"

Oh…

At that, Peter turned around sharply and instead made his way to the closest subway station, ignoring his own hitching breaths.

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**A/N: Yeah, Pete is a lil dramatic boy. Find me on tumblr at keenerparkerstark!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for reading and following! Here's chapter two!**

* * *

Harley shoved his hands in between his tightly pressed together knees in order to hide their shaking and kept his eyes fixated on an oddly coloured stain on the carpet of which he did not dare to assume the origin. Meanwhile, Principal Morita was talking endlessly, obviously excited by the prospect of being in some way affiliated with the _great _Tony Stark. Don't get him wrong, Harley loved Tony, more than anyone else (except for maybe Rhodey and Pepper), and over the years he had known him, the man had grown to be like a father to him, but Tony had always been so secretive. He would show up unannounced at Harley's house every once in a few months, and would spend a weekend there, talking and tinkering and just generally having a good time. Tony was a sarcastic asshole, but Harley rivalled him in the category and the banter they kept up together flowed flawlessly. And then he would disappear, as if he was never there, and Harley wouldn't hear from him until the next time he would show up. It was an odd dynamic, and Harley couldn't help but feel like Tony's embarrassed of him somehow. It wasn't surprising, of course, Harley was barely visible next to the titan that is Tony Stark, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt at all. This dance continued for years until _he_ appeared. _Jason_…

Of course, Harley had wanted his mother to be happy, and Jason had been nice enough at first. But by the time his true nature started rearing its ugly head, his mother was deeply invested, head over heels in love with his manipulative sweetness. It still surprised him every time the hits came, though. That is, until Tony showed up unannounced at the worst (best?) possible moment and now Harley was sat across an enthusiastic principal of a fancy smart-kid school in New York.

"…I asked another student to be your buddy today. He should be here in a few minutes- Ah! There he is! Good morning, Mr. Parker, thank you for coming in early today." Harley looked up at Principal Morita's words, and saw a boy with a baggy jumper quietly close the door behind him, and tentatively sit down in the chair next to his. Harley smiled at him, and the boy smiled back.

"This is Harley Keener," Principal Morita spoke up again, this time to the other boy, Parker. "He has recently moved to New York from Tennessee and wants to share his talents and knowledge with us here at Midtown." Harley felt embarrassment and a hint of anger rise within him as lowered his head and scratched the back of his neck. God knows this man wouldn't have been praising him if he knew he was just a simple boy from Tennessee who just happened to almost shoot Tony Stark with a potato gun.

"I'm just here to learn, Principal Morita," he muttered dejectedly.

"Nonsense," the man boomed, slamming his hand into the table in his enthusiasm, startling both teens, "You came in mid-term with personal recommendations by Tony Stark himself!" From the corner of his eye, Harley noticed Parker's head shoot up at the mention of Tony's name.

"Tony… Stark," he stammered, and Harley rolled his eyes. Was this the first step to being bombarded with questions about Tony for the rest of his school career?

"This is precisely why I wanted you to be Harley's buddy during his first week here at Midtown," Principal Morita continued. "Since you are Mr. Stark's personal intern and all…" This caused Harley to look up and slowly turn his head to face the brown-haired boy beside him. He felt a sudden surge of anger and protectiveness as he thought back to Tony's compound, achingly empty with the ghosts of his former colleagues ubiquitous. The man who saved him does nothing but work in order to make everybody else's lives easier, and here was a little high school boy who pretended to know and work for Tony in order to get into better colleges, or whatever.

"You're not Tony's intern," he snapped, and boy looked taken aback, almost offended in his surprise.

"I- I am, I'm- I-." Harley's glare intensified and he leaned forward towards Parker.

"You're what?"

"Now, now, play nice, boys," Principal Morita interrupted, his voice significantly more serious than before, having obviously caught on to the confrontation. "You have both brought in statements signed by Mr. Stark stating that you are his personal intern. Maybe he simply has not yet got to introduce you to each other yet." Impossible. Harley couldn't think about Tony unashamedly taking this high-school aged boy into his workshop and tinkering, and bantering, introducing him to his friends and his fiancé, whilst Harley was being beating to a pulp behind the garage he had first met the man. Simply _impossible_.

"Here's your schedule and your locker number and combination," Principal Morita sighed, handing Harley an envelope. "I hope you have a wonderful first day at Midtown High."

"Thank you, Principal Morita," Harley nodded politely, and stood up, making his way out of the office without even glancing back at Parker. He almost started running, the moment he was out of sight, desperate to stay as far away from the boy as he possibly could. He didn't want to believe Parker was telling the truth. He didn't want to deal with the implications. He didn't want to risk feeling hurt, confronting Tony, only to hear that he was indeed embarrassed of Harley. That he was a burden, and Tony felt obligated to hang out with him. That he'd rather Harley packed his bags and moved back home.

Deep down, where his voice of reason currently resided, Harley knew that Tony wasn't like that. If anything, the man was just emotionally stunted, caused by layers upon layers of cruel betrayal, but Harley knew only betrayal from his father figures before Tony, so why would this be any different? Footsteps behind him told him that the boy had finally caught up with him.

"S-so, what's your first class?" The kid asked, his voice trembling, most likely from straining to keep up with him. Harley ignored him, and picked up his pace, expecting to easily outpace the skinny looking boy. Before he knew what was happening, though, the other teen had rushed past him and blocked his way abruptly, leaving Harley unable to stop in time and running into him.

"Come on, I'm just trying to help you here. Mr. Stark-" At the mention of Mr. Stark's name, Harley felt the anger (and hurt) inside him grow burning hot and he raised his finger, shoving it into the boy's face.

"Listen up, punk," he snarled. "Tony Stark may be your little nerdy wet dream but he is an actual person. You can't just go around making up some shit about a fake internship, that I know for a fact is absolute bullshit; Tony doesn't hire interns, nearly nobody is even allowed to enter his lab, just so you can go around and skip class without getting in trouble. You're a fucking fraud, who falsified some documents to make it look like he is interning with Tony Stark." Harley was yelling at this point, his face felt hot as he prodded his finger into the kid's chest. Parker raised his hands as if to pacify Harley, but it only made him angrier. Neither of them even noticed the growing crowd of students that was forming around the confrontation.

"You are not Tony Stark's intern, you're not in any way affiliated with Stark Industries. You're a liar and a fraud and I am going to expose you for it." With those words, Harley pushed past Parker and rushed further down the hall, before faltering around the corner, realising he wouldn't know where to go without a guide.

With the anger almost instantly rushing out of his body, Harley felt embarrassed. He had thrown a complete temper tantrum and said awful things to a boy who, now that he thinks of it, had only ever tried to be helpful and kind. Even if he was lying about his internship with Tony Stark, did he really deserve to be treated like that? Pushing through his rising guilt, Harley looked at the envelop in his hand, and finally opened it to take out his schedule. He stared. And blinked. And stared again. The amount of unrecognisable numbers and letters was daunting and added to his current emotional state of mind, he could not make sense of the jumble on the paper before him.

"Hey, I just wanted to see thank you for calling Parker back there out on his lies." Harley looked up and saw a boy with dark eyes and a smug grin leaning against a wall near him. "I've been trying to tell my peers that he is a lying scumbag, but nobody would believe me, because he looks so innocent, you know?" So, Parker definitely was lying about his internship, then, Harley concluded to himself. And it even sounded like he had been giving the boy in front of him a rough time. He latched onto these comments to push down the guilt that aggressively tried to drown him, and smiled back at the boy.

"He had it coming," he responded. "I can't stand people who lie and bully." The boy grinned back at him, and then let his gaze slide down towards where Harley was still clutching the senseless piece of paper that was supposed to tell him where to go.

"You're new? Can I look at your schedule?" Harley nodded gratefully and handed over the paper. The boy looked at it for a brief moment, and his grin was back with full force as he turned to Harley.

"Would you look at that," he said cheerfully, "our schedules are exactly the same! If you'd like, I can show you around today. My name's Flash." Harley looked at the kid holding out his hand to shake and didn't hesitate to shake it, as he introduced himself. "I'm Harley."

* * *

Flash was… interesting, to say the least. He was kind enough to Harley, always happy to help him out, and wasn't grilling him for information about Tony Stark. But the way he treated people around him seemed off. He would sometimes yell at his friends out of nowhere, or aggressively bump into people in the hallway. If he caught Harley looking, he would flash that familiar grin and shrug, as if it wasn't a big deal, but it was hard to ignore. However, when Flash tripped Parker over as he was walking down the hallway and the boy fell to his knees in front of them, Harley couldn't help the sadistic heckle that escaped him. Parker's brown eyes looked at him, and hurt was plainly visible on his face, but he was up and gone before Harley could think about it.

By the time his final period of the day, English class, came around, he felt as if he had run a marathon. He was exhausted to his bones, and he felt his eyes drooping as the woman at the front of the classroom droned on endlessly. A sharp jab to his side woke him up abruptly, and he tuned in, just as his teacher sternly addressed Parker, who was sat at the front of the classroom.

"Mr. Parker, am I so boring that must resort to playing video games on your phone during my class?"

"I- I'm sorry, Mrs. Winterhalter, I'll pay attention." Flash started laughing quietly at Parker's expense and Harley couldn't help but join in, in a sick way enjoying the way it made him feel to laugh at somebody else's misery. Mrs. Winterhalter squinted her eyes sternly at them and they quieted down, trying to keep straight faces.

"See to it, Mr. Parker," she added, and went back where she had left off before. Harley felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and took it out stealthily to check. It was a text from Tony.

**TONY STARK**

**I'm outside, kid**

He felt his heart jump up at the prospect of seeing his friend-turned-father figure again, after the confusing day he had had. Just as he put his phone away to turn back to the lesson, the bell rang to signify the end of the period and students started rushing out of the classroom. Harley also frantically started packing his belongings, and made for the door, followed on his heel by Flash.

"Hey, Harles, are you in a hurry?" He slowed down his pace.

"My… uh… my dad is waiting outside."

"Oh, cool, I bet you're stoked to go home after such a long day." Harley let out a relieved laugh at Flash's understanding, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders just as they stepped outside.

"Quite stoked, yeah," he laughed. Flash was just about to reply, when he was interrupted by a voice in the distance yelling: "Hurry up, Harley!"

"That's my dad," Harley hastily explained, scared that Flash would see the figure by the car and realise that he's claiming that Tony Stark is his father. "I have to go now. Thank you for everything."

"No problem, dude," Flash responded with surprising kindness. "I'll see you tomorrow." Harley waved goodbye and started running towards Tony, who was still looking around.

"Hey, old man, I'm right here." Tony grinned at him.

"You better watch what you're saying, boy," he warned without a trace of seriousness. "Do not go around calling me old. How was your day at school? Where's Peter?"

"It was fine, I- Who's Peter?" Tony looked at him with a confused frown.

"Peter? Peter Parker? Damnit, don't tell me the principal screw this up! Morita told me he'd have Peter be your buddy so you could meet him! I figured you two would be best friends by the time you stepped out of this building. You are so alike!" Harley could see the dawning horror on his own face in the reflection of the tinted windows behind Tony.

"Oh, fuck…"

* * *

**A/N: Find me on tumblr at keenerparkerstark!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here's chapter three, for your enjoyment! I hope you like it.**

* * *

Peter was glad for the first time in his life that his aunt had such a hectic work schedule, as she wasn't there to witness him slam the door dramatically on his way in. The vase on the cabinet by the door swayed dangerously and Peter gave it a warning glare, before sinking to the ground, head in his hands. He tried to ignore the insistent buzzing of his phone by sliding it as far away from him as possible without actively throwing it, but the sound still penetrated his oversensitive ears. He knew Tony was calling him, and he knew why. But seeing as that was about the only thing he was certain of in this situation, he didn't feel prepared to face the music and actually answer his phone. He furiously wiped at his eyes, refusing to let more tears fall, as his sadness and disbelieve slowly turned into anger. Tony had apparently not even thought about him when he gave this boy a personal recommendation for Peter's high school, and didn't bother telling the boy about him either. He didn't blame Harley, not really. He understood that his story must be unbelievable: a random, completely uninteresting scholarship student from Queens has somehow turned into Tony Stark's personal intern? It was as crazy as it sounded, and the only way Peter could think of to justify it was to tell the truth, which… Well, that's simply not an option in this scenario.

He felt himself shiver as he tried to keep his breathing in check and looked towards the clock near the coat hangers. 4.15 PM. Standing up with a determined huff, he ripped open his backpack, and went into his room, taking out his familiar red-and-blue suit and disposing of the bag somewhere along the way, already hearing his aunt's disapproving voice in his head at the mess he was making. He closed his bedroom door behind him with a slam and started undressing frantically as he glanced out of the window for his safest and most covert way out.

* * *

His name is Peter Parker, and he is a kind, funny boy who Tony hired to be his intern because he had been in need of help at the time. Or so Tony said, at least. Harley tried to stop the wobbling of his chin as he stared at the floor of the car. Next to him, he could see Tony in the driver's seat, his hands folded, almost as if in prayer, around his cell phone, which was pressed against his forehead, his head bent forward.

"I'm really sorry…"

Tony's head shot up at Harley's whispered confession, but the latter couldn't bring himself to face him. The guilt seemed dead set on devouring him from the inside out, his stomach aching and his heart throbbing. _I didn't know, I didn't know, I didn't know…_

"No, kid, don't be, I'm…" Tony's voice trailed off as he sighed. "You didn't know."

"I know," Harley choked out, as everything that had happened today, all the anxiety about a new school, his worries about his mother and sister, his high hopes of finally being _liked_ at a school with kids just as nerdy as he was, his budding friendship with a bully, his anger about Peter's lies… it all came out at once and took form in shuddering sobs. "I didn't know, but that doesn't excuse- It doesn't- I…" Suddenly, strong arms pulled him in tightly and his tear-stained face was pressed against a warm chest. He smelled expensive cologne, coffee and motor oil and hiccupped as he pressed in closer.

"This is on me, Harles," Tony whispered in his ear, as his large hand stroked comfortingly over the teen's hitching back. "I should have told you about Peter, but more importantly…" He took his hands off Harley's back and placed them on his shoulder, softly pushing the reluctant boy away from him to look him in his eyes.

"I should have realised that you were hurting. I have taken responsibility for you. I have promised your mother that I would take care of you and I honestly couldn't have been blessed with a better, cooler and smarter kid, Harley." This made the corners of Harley's mouth lift up slightly and Tony rewarded him with a gentle smile. "I'm not sure what I'm doing, honestly, I'm just improvising here, and if I wasn't emotionally broken before, the whole situation with…" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "With Cap certainly made it a done deal, but that won't stop me from trying. I'm here for you, Harley, to talk to, to yell at, to punch, to hug, whatever you need, okay? I know we're both a little out of our comfort zones here, but we're two super geniuses! I'm sure together we'll be able to figure out how this family thing works." Harley felt relieved, almost as if Tony had seen straight through his skull into his brain and had, one-by-one, eased his fears and worries. He realised that, no matter how much he hated Peter for allegedly doing it, he had put Tony on a pedestal and had neglected to acknowledge how human the man really was. This conversation must have taken a lot of courage and energy for Tony to initiate, and Harley felt his chest fill with all kinds of warm feelings.

"Thank you, Tony," he smiled, placing as much genuineness in his voice as humanly possible, hoping to convey even the slightest bit of the relieve he was feeling. The gratitude in Tony's answering grin told him he succeeded pretty well.

"Boss." FRIDAY's voice sounded from the console of Tony's car, and his entire form seemed to snap back into attention. "I have just received note from Karen that Spider-Man has just started patrol."

"Woah, Spider-Man?" Harley couldn't help but exclaim incredulously, wiping at his face with the sleeves of his shirt. "You have contact with Spider-Man?"

"Yeah, I look out for him," Tony muttered off-handed, distracted by something on his phone. "Listen, Harles, I'm going to drive you home to the compound as fast as I can, and then I need to go help out Spider-Man, okay?" He held up his phone, flashing a map with a red dot moving rapidly across. "Superhero business, you know?" Harley nodded, and put on his seatbelt, leaning back against his seat as Tony started the car. He wondered what was going on with Spider-Man that got Tony distracted from finding Peter Parker, which he had seemed so determined to do earlier.

* * *

Peter had been swinging uselessly around the city for about an hour when his HUD lit up with an incoming call.

"Karen, please-"

"I'm sorry, Peter, FRIDAY is pushing the call through."

"Hey, Pete!" Peter let his clearly audible sigh be the only response to his mentor charismatic greeting. "Okay, so you're pissed at me." The teen chose to swing up to the rooftop closest to him, and sit down on the edge, his legs swing off of it. His head was already aching with the implications of the phone call, and the situation as a whole.

"How's Harley Keener, Mr. Stark?" Peter could hear the thrusters come progressively closer until he heard the familiar, metallic _clunk_ of the armour landing, and opening.

"Harley's good," a soft voice behind him spoke. "Quite upset that he mistreated somebody he met in school today, actually. It wasn't really his fault though."

"I know," Peter responded, not trusting himself to face his mentor. He still felt the stabbing pain in his chest that could either be cardiac arrest or betrayal.

"I fucked up, Peter." His voice was now right behind him, and he could hear where Mr. Stark sat down behind him. "I fucked up really bad. I somehow thought that having you meet Harley in this manner might make it easier for you to accept that I have kept him from you all this time, and vice versa. You both mean the world to me, and I guess part of me was afraid of having the individual parts of paradise that is spending time with you in the lab, and spending time with Harley in his workshop, would be going if I let it into other aspects of my life. That's why you haven't met Pepper, or Rhodey either. I feel like I'm just constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, and…" Mr. Stark trailed off and Peter's enhanced hearing could hear the rattling breath in his lungs.

"I'm just making excuses for something inexcusable, though. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Harley. I'm sorry I didn't tell Harley about you. I hurt you both tremendously in the process and I wish more than anything that I can do it over. Please, don't hold this against Harley, though. He's a wonderful kid, who has been through a lot in a short amount of time, and he was honestly only trying to look out for me." A silence fell over the pair as they sat there. Peter was deep in thought, considering every word spoken by his respected mentor. It all made perfect sense, it truly did, but then why didn't it make him feel any better? Why did his chest feel so tight, his stomach still so acid-y.

"I hear you, Mr. Stark," Peter heard himself say, as he stumbled to his feet, swaying dangerously over the edge of the building in the process. "But I need time. I'll see you around." Without waiting for any response, Peter launched himself off the roof, and caught himself by smoothly shooting a web to the next building over.

"Your heart rate is elevated, and you seem in distress," Karen's soft voice spoke in his ear, breaking through the insistent rush of wind. "Are you okay, Peter? Are you upset with Mr. Stark?"

"I'm not sure, Karen," he responded honestly. "I just need some time for myself."

* * *

**A/N: Come find me on tumblr at keenerparkerstark. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Another chapter, and it's entirely Harley-centric! Sorry it took a while. **

* * *

Harley watched as threatening clouds rolled in overhead, the side of his head pressed against the cold side window. He wonders, over his head deep into his own teenage angst, whether the weather would continue to accurate reflect his mood all day, and sighed as the first rain drops started to splash onto the windshield.

"Am I going to have to pick you up after school, kid?" Harley could tell Happy was experimenting with how much reluctance he could passively make known to the teen, without outright saying it.

"Uh, probably," he replied honestly, not sure how else he would be finding his way back to the compound.

"Alright," Happy sighed, "that sounds like it might be no. Just text me if you change your mind." Harley simply nodded, not feeling up for giving an outright response. He wished he could have stayed home today, but Tony was quite insistent that he faced the music. "_Peter is not upset with you_," he had pressed, but did not elaborate on why he knew this so certainly. On the one hand, he hoped nothing more than to encounter Peter as soon as possible today, so he could apologise and ask to start over. On the other hand… Peter had plenty of reason to hate him, and Harley wasn't sure if he would be up for a confrontation like that.

"Hey, Happy?" The man simply grunted in response, which Harley took as a sign that he was listening.

"Do you know Peter Parker?" Squinted eyes flickered in his direction, before immediately turning back to the road ahead.

"Yeah, annoying little boy. Why do you ask?"

"I- I just," Harley swallowed, "I said some pretty mean things to him. I mean, I didn't know him, but… Yeah, I said some awful stuff, and I don't really know how to talk to him about it, you know?" Happy's eyes flickered over again, although this time including a sceptically raised eyebrow.

"Trust me, kid," he spoke as he turned back to the windshield. "There is no way to get rid of that Parker boy, and God knows I've tried. You could probably punch him in the face and he would apologise for getting in the way of your fist. Just say you're sorry and give him some attention, and he'll be all over you. He's like a puppy that way." _Is this also the case if you publically falsely accuse him in front of all his classmates, and then humiliate and bully him all day_, Harley wanted to say, guilt sitting heavy in his abdomen.

"Hmm," he, ever so eloquently, chose to say instead. He turned back to look outside, and noticed that they were pulling up on Midtown's parking lot. He grabbed his backpack from where he had put it between his legs, and unbuckled his seatbelt. He paused, with his hand on the door handle, and looked towards Happy. Fear and anticipation were rolling around his stomach, fighting a battle for dominance until they finally settled as a feeling of general anxiety.

"Do you really think-"

"Kid, can you save the heart-to-hearts for Tony? I have better things to do." Harley deflated and turned away, opening the car door. Just as he was about to close it, he heard Happy mutter something about "driving those kids himself", and decided he didn't really like Tony's former bodyguard very much.

Although he had been nervous to go into school yesterday, it seemed to pale in comparison to what he felt now as he looked up at the looming building towering over his head. He clenched and unclenched his hands, feeling his finger nails dig into the palms of his hands as he stood, contemplating what his day would look like. A sudden hand on his shoulder aggressively shook him out of his stupor.

"Hey, Harles! Good to see you, man. How are you doing today?" Flash stood next to him, uncovering his shockingly white teeth in his characteristic grin. Harley turned to him, trying to remember the (one of many) speeches he had prepared as he was lying wide awake in bed last night.

"Good morning, Flash. Listen, I really need to talk to you. It's about Peter." Flash's grin fell, and turned into a confused frown in record time.

"Why do you need to talk about Penis Parker? Did he do something?"

"No, no, I just-" He was cut off by the first warning bell that rang across the school grounds, and Flash started walking away.

"Sorry, dude, but we have P.E. first period and we have to go now if we want to be on time," he explained as he rushed towards the school, followed suit by Harley. "Just tell me at lunch." Harley sighed but chased Flash, deep in thought. He knew that Flash's behaviour towards Peter was horrible: it was straight-up bullying, even. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that Flash was really a likable person. He had shown Harley nothing but genuine kindness and he seemed like a funny guy. And honestly, Harley would be the biggest hypocrite on Earth to blame him for acting out against Peter because he thought he was lying. He hoped that, by telling Flash the truth about what happened he could get him to be nicer to Peter as well.

They quickly changed in the mostly empty changing rooms as soon as they arrived at the sports hall, and rushed inside the hall, where the majority of their classmates were already waiting for class to start. Harley's eyes skimmed the crowd until he saw Peter, sat curled up on the bench on the very left, his head turned towards his friend, who was enthusiastically telling him about something, gesturing wildly. He looked tired, but wore a tired smile at his friend's antics nonetheless. Flash dragged him over to the right side, just as the teacher entered the hall, and class started.

* * *

All day, Harley had been trying to get Flash and Peter alone for long enough to talk to them, but Peter seemed to (and rightfully so, of course) avoid him like the plague, and Flash was constantly surrounded by his friends. Although Harley did not necessarily dislike the other boys, he felt that talking to Flash about their mistake in front of his friend might be humiliating for him, and ruining two persons' reputations by public humiliation in two days didn't seem like the kind of track record he'd want to be aiming for at his new school.

Eventually, as he was taking his books out of his bag for his final class of the day, Flash leaned over and asked: "Hey, do you want to hang out after school? We can go to my place, if you want."

Harley thought about Tony, and how upset he had seemed that morning, no matter how hard he had tried to hide it. He thought about Happy, who did not do justice to his name, and seemed highly reluctant to pick him up from school. He thought about Flash, who's presence around him seemed to scare away students who came looking to mess with the 'new kid'. The decision came easy.

"Yeah, sure, sounds great!" He quickly whipped out his phone and sent a text of dismissal to Happy, before turning to smile at Flash, who was grinning back at him.

* * *

Flash's car was _really_ cool. Granted, it was his father's car, as he had admitted as soon as Harley stopped ranting about its beauty and luxury, but it didn't make it any less impressive to the other boy. The car took off with surprising speed as Flash turned onto the road, and Harley couldn't help but grin at the butterflies that appeared in his stomach as a result. Meanwhile, Flash was chatting nonstop.

"… she was quite pretty, as well, but just didn't understand that that isn't how customer service works, you know? So, I was explaining this calmly to her as I was driving her to Homecoming, when all of a sudden Spider-Man appeared on the hood of my car!" At the mention of the infamous Queens vigilante, Harley's attention snapped back to the other's words.

"Woah, Spider-Man?" Flash nodded with a shit-eating grin, obviously enjoying Harley's engagement in his story.

"Yeah, dude, Spider-Man! He had just saved my life a couple weeks earlier when I almost died in the elevator in the Washington Monument."

* * *

"You were in there?! I saw it on the news!"

"Yeah, it was really scary, but Spider-Man helped us out. It was a little weird, because Spider-Man usually only helps out in Queens, you know? And suddenly he was in DC, saving my ass. That's like, what? Four hours from NYC? A little out of his usual range, you know?" Harley vaguely remember Spider-Man fighting in a German airport with Tony a while back, but chose not to mention it, instead nodding along to Flash's story.

"Can you keep a secret?" Harley almost wanted to laugh at the childlike question, but knew better, considering the other teen was sharing a story of when his life was in serious danger. He nodded again.

"I think Spider-Man is in love with me." At that, Harley's head snapped up and he stared at Flash, his eyes wide, and a smile forming on his face.

"What?" he asked incredulously. "No offence, dude, but why do you think Spider-Man is in love with you?" Flash laughed, a blush forming on his face as he visibly grew embarrassed.

"I don't know, man, I just… the coincidence of him constantly showing up where I am… I don't know, maybe he's not in love, maybe it's just a crush, but…" He sighed. "What are the chances of him just picking my car out of everyone who was on the road in New York City that night, you know?"

"Pretty slim," Harley agreed, humouring Flash's thoughts.

"I mean, it's not like I have a crush on him, or anything," Flash hastily added, glancing towards Harley. "I'm not… you know, I don't do that stuff, but I just… I'm sorry, it's a weird thing to have told you. Forget I said anything."

"No, dude, it's fine, don't worry about it," Harley quickly assured him, his heart thundering in his chest as he took a deep breath. "I'm gay. It's no big deal." Flash glanced at him again, but his gaze lingered slightly, before turning back to the road.

"Oh…" he muttered. "Oh, that's cool, dude, that's perfectly fine." Harley couldn't supress his smile just as Flash pulled up to a big house in the New York suburbs, putting a code into the gate leading to a seemingly endless driveway to open it.

* * *

Harley ended up spending hours at Flash's mansion (honestly, it was way too big to call a house. 'Castle' would have been more fitting), and couldn't deny having endless fun. They played Mario Kart and talking about Spider-Man, and school, and college, and family. Harley even ended up telling him about _Jason_. He was about to tell Flash about Tony, about meeting Iron Man, and being taken in by him years later, but then it hit him. What if Flash would think he was lying too? After such a vulnerable, yet fun afternoon, he didn't want to risk losing his friend to a misunderstanding like that. He would tell him, eventually, by showing him his home at the Avengers Compound, but in that moment, he chose to keep it to himself, and by doing so, also neglected to tell Flash about Peter's situation.

"Are you sure you're okay getting home?" Flash asked as he leaned against the gate that he was dropped Harley off at. "It's really no problem to drive you-"

"No, don't worry about it," Harley quickly responded. "I'll walk to the closest bus stop and travel home by public transport." In reality, he had asked Tony to pick him up from there, but Flash really didn't need to know that. The latter nodded, and grinned at him.

"Get home safe, dude," he said, as he walked away, waving his hand at the boy as he closed the gate behind him. Harley set off, his StarkPhone in hand as he manoeuvred his way through the winding street of suburban New York. The bus stop was supposed to only be a block away, and although his phone insistently told him to go straight ahead and turn left at the end, simply observation told him that the alley to his right would take him straight to the stop. He shrugged, and ducked into the alley, quickly making his way towards the light at the end, trying to shake the unreasonable anxiety that rose in his stomach.

"Slow your stroll, asshole, unless you want some extra holes in that body of yours." Right… Not that unreasonable, then.

* * *

**A/N: Come yell at me on tumblr at keenerparkerstark!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey folks! Trigger warning for mentions of gun violence as some mention of blood in this chapter. **

* * *

"Slow your roll, asshole, unless you want some extra holes in that body of yours."

Harley put up his hands, immediately without turning around, and stopped walking, remembering what Tony had told him about the dangers of walking around on your own in New York. He couldn't help but glance down at the, most likely, ridiculously expensive jacket he was wearing, which Tony had insisted on buying him. Combine this with his lithe, youthful appearance, and you basically had a bright neon sign over his head that says: 'Rob me, please!'

"I don't want any trouble," he states for good measure, and turns his head slightly to try and catch a glimpse of what his attacker is doing. He barely caught sight of a figure with a hoodie drawn over his cap, casting an impenetrable shadow over his face, with a black-clad arm reaching out to the back of Harley's head, when he felt a harsh cold pressure to the back of his head, and flinched away when he realised that it was the barrel of a handgun.

"No funny games," the figure behind him grunted. "Just slowly reach down, take out your wallet and phone and hand them to me. Don't even think about turning around, screaming, fighting or running away, because I will put a bullet in your brain before you can finish the thought." Harley shivered, a lump in his throat making it difficult to breath. His hand trembled as it reached into his jacket pocket, and took out his phone, reaching back to hold it out for the figure to take. It was yanked out of his hands without warning.

"Your wallet," the voice pressed urgently behind him, "and hand over your watch too." _His watch_… Harley's heart skipped a beat as he was reminded of the elaborate smart watch that sat on his wrist, equipped with all kinds of applications and gadgets, and a _panic button that sends a distress signal straight to Tony_. Of course!

"M-my wallet is in my backpack," Harley stuttered out, raising his hands up again. "Let me take off my watch." Keeping his hands in the air to show that he wasn't taking out anything else, Harley started fidgeting with the claps of his watch. With as much subtlety as he could muster, he pressed the tiny red knob on his watch, which vibrated gently in acknowledgement. Just as he finished unclasping the watch, another voice echoed through the alley, this time from up high.

"You know, most people don't really appreciate being held at gun point. You might want to stop that." Harley let out a sigh as relief washed over him, making his knees buckle under him. He knew that voice… He had heard it hundreds of times before in YouTube videos and the like. Immediately, an arm wrapped around his neck in a choke hold, his own hands involuntarily flying up to desperately grasp at the grip, and he was drawn backwards until his back met the figure's chest. The cold pressure of the gun has shifted to his temple, and he squeezed his eyes closed in fear as he gasped for breath.

"Get the fuck out of here, Spider-Man, or I'll put a bullet in this fucking kid!" Harley heard a thud as Spider-Man landed in front of them, but didn't dare open his eyes, his world narrowed down to the metal against his temple and the arm around his throat. He felt the chest behind him rapidly moving up and down as his attacker takes in one panic breath after another.

"Okay, hey, slow down, there's no need for that." Spider-Man's voice had lost its earlier lightness, and sounded almost stern. "I ain't looking for trouble if you're not making it. You got what you wanted. Just let the kid go, and walk away." Suddenly, Harley felt the gun being taken away from his temple as the figure behind him shoved him aggressively, and he stumbled forward, eyes snapping open and only seeing red and blue as a pair of spandex clad arms caught him gracefully. He looked up at Spider-Man's mask, but it was facing forward determinedly, as he helped Harley stay upright.

"Stay here, Harley," he spoke firmly, and he was off, a web slinging him to the furthest end of the alley, where, as Harley now noticed, the perpetrator was making a quick escape. He did not get far, however, as Spider-Man made quick work of webbing up his feet, and dragging him by his lower body towards the wall, continuously shooting webs at him to make the robber stick to it.

Harley let out a shaky breath as all adrenaline seemed to rush out of him simultaneously, and he could barely make it to the wall before his knees gave out entirely, dropping down on the concrete below, which emitted a strong stank of urine. He felt tired beyond belief, and wanted nothing more in that moment than to close his eyes, and fall asleep, be unconscious for a while and wake up in his bed in Tennessee by his sister jumping on his bed, and the smell of freshly fried eggs. He didn't notice when the tears started falling, but soon enough there were wet patches on his jeans where his face was pressed against his knees, which he had drawn to his chest in an attempt to make himself as small as humanly possible.

A sudden presence beside him startled him, but he calmed down when he realised it was none other than New York's wallcrawler, sitting on a urine-flooded alley next to a crying teenager who felt home sick. He didn't even say _thank you_… Harley started furiously wiping at his eyes, and sniffed a few times before he managed to find some form of composure. He opened his mouth to say something, _anything_, but was cut off by Spider-Man, who spoke first.

"I got your phone back." It was then that Harley noticed the hand that was holding out the phone to him. He took it with a grateful smile, and an unreadable mask with white lenses glared back at him. _Say thank you, say thank you, say thank you_…

"I'm sorry." _Wait, what?_ Spider-Man's head cocked in confusion.

"What are you sorry for, Harley? None of this was your fault."

"I know, I know, but I should have known better than to- Wait a minute… How do you know my name?" Harley suddenly remembered Spider-Man calling him 'Harley' earlier as well, although he had been too out-of-it to notice at the time. Suddenly, the mask was not as unreadable as it had seemed earlier when the white lenses gave away the widening of the eyes underneath.

"Uh, I mean, I know all the names of the citizens of New York!"

"What, like Santa Claus, or something," Harley laughed incredulously, both curious, worried and amused about the situation.

"I mean, would you believe me if I said yes?" Harley just raised an eyebrow in return, slowly feeling the weight on his shoulders lift some more. "Yeah, I figured as much. Okay, so, here's the truth. Mr. Stark told me about you." Of course!

"That makes sense. Tony mentioned you to me before too! But don't worry, nothing about your identity, or anything. Just that you had needed his help." Spider-Man let out an awkward laugh at that.

"Yeah, Mr. Iron Man and I are what I like to call co-dependant. He needs me as much as I need him."

"I really don't, Underoos," a voice from beside them spoke, uncharacteristically quiet. Both Harley's and Spider-Man's heads snapped up at the sound of Tony Stark's voice, and stared at him as he stood before them, the Iron Man armour only a couple steps behind him, opened up. "I think of it more as a mentor-mentee relationship, where you screw up sometimes, and I try to help you not screw up."

"Mr. Stark," Spider-Man laughed, but he was cut off by Harley getting up and launching himself at Tony, trembling from head to toe, the impact of the evening hitting him again at full force at the sight of his pseudo-dad.

"Shh, it's okay, kiddo," the older man whispered in his ear, as he pressed him close to his chest. "I've got you. I'm right here." As Harley stood there, tightly wrapped up in Tony's embrace, a soft _thwip_ was the only thing indicating Spider-Man's quiet departure from the scene. Distant police sirens could be heard approaching.

* * *

"You, my friend, have had the craziest week ever, and that including the one where you were bitten by a radioactive spider and gained superpowers." Peter groaned pathetically from his position on Ned's lap, the latter of whom simply ignored him for the sake of stealthing his way across whatever video game he was playing, his hands holding the controller resting on Peter's chest.

"Tell me about it," Peter whined. "At least getting bitten by that spider and everything that followed was just facts, you know? This all involves _feelings_ and _social behaviour_ and _puberty_-"

"As much as you're my best friend, and I truly sympathise with you," Ned interjected, as he casually took out at least four other players as he was talking. "I think you're overthinking this. Be honest with yourself! The answer to all your current problems is right there: just talk to Harley! God knows he could use some friendship after what he went through, and by the way he was hunting you down in school today, it seems he's really eager to talk to you too." Peter groaned again, opening his eyes and absentmindedly glancing up at his best friend, who's full focus seemed to be on the TV screen in front of him. "Something's holding you back from talking to him though, am I right? What is it?"

_What was it_? Honestly, Peter wished he could answer that question. Harley genuinely seemed to want to talk things out with him, and after his conversation with Mr. Stark, there was no real grudge that Peter found himself holding against the other teenager. It sounded like the boy was going through a lot, and in his own way, he was standing up for somebody he loved, or, at least, he thought he was. What had happened that evening was intense, much more than anybody should ever have to go through. Peter had been held at gun point more times that he could count, a job hazard, you could call it, but he never got used to the feeling that the person holding the gun could end everything in a split second, no questions asked, no going back. All they had to do was pull the trigger, and it would all be over. Peter squeezed his eyes closed again as his mind flashed with memories of his uncle, lying there surrounded by a puddle of his own blood…

"I don't know, Ned," he responded, a slight tremor in his voice giving away his current emotional state. Ned, ever the graceful friend, did not look away from the screen, but dropped one hand away from his controller, and onto Peter's chest as a sign of comfort. "I want to talk to him, especially after what happened tonight… Mr. Stark will be there for him, but I just want to know if he's okay, you know? But then again, I wasn't there. Spider-Man was. And Spider-Man didn't get into a fight with him about Tony Stark."

"Having a secret identity is not easy, Peter."

"I never thought it would be," Peter sighed in response. "I just want to know what's holding me back from talking to Mr. Stark and Harley. I want to, I really do, but every single time I think about it, I feel like some freaky disembodied hand is trying to choke the life out of me."

"Of course, you're going to feel anxious about it, Pete," Ned responded, his hand pressing down slightly. "You feel hurt by both of them. But the only way to get rid of that anxiety is to _communicate_. Hell, even telling them that the idea of talking to them makes you anxious is already better than the radio silence you're giving now. Harley's not stupid: he knows you were avoiding him yesterday." Peter nodded in understanding, letting his friend's words sink in.

Honestly, knowing that Harley probably wanted to talk to him about something was both dauntingly terrifying and infinitely comforting. The situation was a chip on both of their shoulders, and they seemed equally eager to move past it, but Peter had no way of knowing how. After all, Harley still seemed awfully friendly with Flash, who hadn't let up on bullying Peter constantly since their last year of Middle School. He doubted Harley could change his mind about that. But not giving him a chance to redeem himself seemed wrong too, and he could almost hear his aunt in his head, telling him to 'never write of strangers at first sight, because strangers are just friends you haven't met yet'. Naïve, but not necessarily wrong.

Tomorrow, Peter promised himself. Tomorrow, he would set aside whatever was holding him back, and talk to Harley.

* * *

**A/N: Come find me on tumblr at keenerparkerstark! **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Hey folks, sorry it took so long to update. Thank you for your continued support!**

* * *

Harley felt an odd sense of déjà vu as he stared up at the increasingly familiar building in front of him, filled to the brim with a strange mixture of dread, anticipation and exhaustion. Well, the latter was not quite strange, seeing as every single time he closed his eyes, he felt the metal of a gun pressed against his head. Sleeping had been impossible that night, and he had spent it pressed against Tony's side on the couch, staring unseeingly at the TV, which was playing some old episode of a comedy show. Tony had urged him multiple times that morning over breakfast to skip out on school that day, but Harley had insisted. It was his first week of school, and missing a day already would be less than ideal. Besides, it wasn't as if sitting at home doing nothing would be bringing him any comfort in this situation. Tony had let him go, under the condition that he would wear his watch, and press the panic button at any time if he didn't feel comfortable.

"Harley?" A soft voice spoke up from behind him, and for some reason, all Harley could see in that moment was a pair of white lenses on a red mask, owlishly blinking back at him. He shook his head to rid himself of the image, and turned around. In front of him was Peter, with hunched shoulders and brown eyes shyly glancing back at him. He looked nervous, with his hands shoved deeply in the pockets of his hoodie. His friend Ned was a few steps behind, enough distance to not be barging in, but close enough for silent support.

"Hey, Peter," he replied, his voice equally soft. Honestly, the whole situation with Peter had taken a mental backburner in comparison to everything else that had happened, but now that he was faced with the boy again, and the guilt came back with an overwhelming force, he wanted nothing more than to make things right. Life was short, after all.

"I noticed you wanted to talk to me yesterday…" Peter's words trailed off and he cocked his head in tentative expectation.

"Yeah, yeah, I honestly…" Harley took a deep breath, trying to remember the various speeches he had practised what felt like a million years ago, before shaking his head, and pushing aside everything he had prepared. "I'm sorry, Peter. I didn't realise that you were actually Tony's intern, and although that doesn't excuse all the shit I pulled, I hope we can move past this. Maybe we can hang out at the compound sometime, tinker in Tony's workshop…" At this point, Harley had lost most of the confidence he started speaking with, and lowered his gaze to the ground, not daring to see Peter's reaction.

"I'm sorry too." _Wait, what?_ "I should've just come over to Mr. Stark's car that afternoon, and talked to him. It was just a misunderstanding and I turned it into something much bigger than it needed to be. I'm sorry for dragging this out, and-"

"Okay, don't apologise," Harley rushed to say. "Let's just… let's hang out this afternoon, I'm pretty sure Tony's coming to pick me up, and we can talk things over with the three of us, okay?" Peter nodded with a slight smile.

"Sounds good." Harley grinned in response, just as the first warning bell rang.

* * *

The relief Peter felt after talking to Harley was immeasurable, and he couldn't stop grinning as he walked towards his first class. The day went by surprisingly fast, finding that it was easier to focus on his teacher's with significantly less worries in his head. He spent lunch, as always, in a corner of the cafeteria with Ned, glancing around the crowd and chatting, as they both tried to not be noticed. Peter saw Harley on the other end of the cafeteria with Flash, and they seemed to be having a serious discussion. At one point, Flash even put a hand on Harley's shoulder, a concerned frown on his face. It was then that Peter started feeling the acidic ache in his stomach again.

"I bet he's telling him about what happened last night." Peter glanced over at Ned, who had followed his gaze to Flash and Harley.

"Hmm," was Peter's only response. Right in that instance, both Harley and Flash turned around and looked straight back at him, immediately making eye contact. Peter felt his cheeks heat up as he looked away quickly, but Ned raised his hand and waved awkwardly. Peter was too mortified to notice their response.

"What are you doing," he hissed at his friend.

"I'm waving to your new friend."

"And the biggest bully in the school!"

"And your new friend's friend!"

When Peter looked back up at Harley and Flash, they had both turned back to their previous conversation, and did not look at him after that. Peter took out his phone to distract himself, and noticed that he had received a text from Tony:

**TONY STARK**

**Hey, kid. Harley told me you're coming over today. I'll be there to pick you both up. I've also called your aunt already and got her okay, so don't worry about that. See you in a bit. **

* * *

The car ride was awkward. Mr. Stark had insisted on both boys sitting in the back of the car (an ill-concealed attempt at avoiding picking who gets shotgun), and the teens ended up looking out of their respective windows while occasionally throwing glances in the other's direction, unaware of them doing the same thing. Mr. Stark sighed a lot.

''So how was your day at school, boys?" The synchronised shrug that followed was almost impressive in how they both managed to convey the exact same level of extreme disinterest. "Eloquent, nice. Go figure that I'd be stuck with two boy geniuses that suffer from a staggering lack of social skills."

"I have plenty of social skills," Harley huffed, glaring at Mr. Stark through the rear-view mirror. "I just got robbed last night so I'm a little tired, and Peter here has a staggering lack of social skills." Mr. Stark tried to hide his snicker in a cough as Peter shrugged again.

"I mean, you're not wrong." A beat, then… "Wait, you got robbed? What happened, are you okay?" _Nice save, Peter._

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harley replied, turning back to look out his window. "Spider-Man saved me."

"Ah," Peter responded. "I'm glad you're okay." Silence filled the car again, only occasionally broken by Mr. Stark's exasperated sighs.

"We're here," Mr. Stark eventually exclaimed as he pulled up to the gate of the compound, which automatically opened as he approached. "Are you boys joining me in the lab today? A little birdy told me that Spider-Man is running out of his web fluid sometime in the next week if he doesn't get a resupply soon, and personally I don't feel very much like scraping red and blue off the streets of New York this week. I'm a busy man, after all." Peter rolled his eyes, as Harley shot forward in his seat.

"We get to work on Spidey's tech? That's awesome!"

"Peter's actually Spider-Man personal tech guy." Harley's awe was now immediately aimed at Peter, who visibly shied away from it.

"Really? Have you met him? What was he like?"

"I- I, I mean," Peter stammered helplessly, feeling tension rise in his chest. _You're a terrible liar, Parker, don't fuck this up_. He shot a panicked look at his mentor, who, despite not even glancing at him as he drove into the garage, still seemed to sense his tumult.

"Leave him be, Harles," he interrupted smoothly. "Pete's not allowed to say much about it for obvious reasons, and asking him questions is just going to make him feel bad." Harley back away, looking mildly ashamed of himself, nodding meekly.

After having parked the car, the three quickly found themselves in the elevator up to the highest (private) R&D floor, Mr. Stark chatting senselessly as they went.

"… and Ross called me back a couple of hours later, and he was _so_ angry-"

"There you are!" The moment the elevator doors opened, a voice interrupted Mr. Stark's insistent chatter and he quite literally froze in his step, making Harley bump into him, and Peter stop equally abruptly as his spidey senses warned him. The sound of clicking heels echoed through the white hallway littered with class doors as a slender, smartly dressed woman rushed towards them, somehow managing to look stunningly graceful in her panicked rush.

"I've been calling you for hours! Where have you been?"

"I was picking up Harley from school. I told you about it."

"You most certainly did not."

"I'm sure I did. FRIDAY?"

"You did not, boss."

"Well, you're just a little traitor, aren't you? Show your father some respect."

"Tony, something happened in the stakeholders meeting and I needed you to come in and put out some fires-"

"I'll have you know, I'm not very good at putting out fires-"

"But when I went up to your lab, you weren't there!"

"Making fires and explosions is more my forte-"

"You need to tell me if you plan on leaving in the middle of your work day."

"You should ask DUM-E, he loves putting out fires-"

"Tony, can you be serious for _one second_!" The woman raised her voice and effectively cut off Mr. Stark's rambling. He had the decency to look regretful.

"I'm sorry, I was so sure I told you over breakfast this morning."

"You weren't even upstairs for breakfast."

"Right, I mean, that's probably where it went wrong. Look, Pepper, I'm terribly sorry, I'll make it up to you. Just say what you want, and I'll make it happen. In my defence, though? I'm not CEO of the company anymore, and so-" As Mr. Stark continued spouting nonsense, the woman rolled her eyes and finally noticed Harley and Peter standing slightly behind Mr. Stark as if hiding from her scrutiny.

"Hi, there, Harley, honey, how was your day at school?"

"It was pretty good, Ms. Potts, thanks you," Harley grinned back.

"Oh, please, just call me Pepper! It's okay! And your friend! You must be the famous Peter Parker, am I right?" Peter felt a rush of excitement run through his body as he realised he was speaking to _the _Pepper Potts, and could only nod shyly in response. Ms. Potts rewarded him with a patient smile.

"Tony has told me much about you, Peter," she added. "Only good things, of course! You're apparently quite the genius." She let her eyes wander over the boys again, taking in Mr. Stark's hunched shoulders, Harley's confident grin and Peter's wide eyes. "You're in good company." She made to leave, but not before turning back and shooting Mr. Stark a warning glare.

"Make sure you all eat, Tony." He nodded solemnly and watched as his fiancée walked away. It took a couple of seconds to shake himself out of his apparent stupor, but when he did, he turned to Harley and Peter with a wide grin.

"Let's go explode some stuff."

"I heard that!"

* * *

**A/N Come say hi on tumblr at keenerparkerstark.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I am sorry about the outrageous amount of time between my last update and now. I'm happy to say, though, that I've passed my thesis and only have one presentation to do before I'll have officially finished my BA degree! I've also found myself an exciting new job! I'm sure I'll have more time to work on this in the future, but I'd be lying if I said your reviews and support were not infinitely motivating and 100% the reason why I am here now, having written this seventh chapter. I'll be back! Please, wait for me in the meantime! 3 **

* * *

It did not take long for Mr. Stark, Harley and Peter to fall into an almost familiar rhythm together. They moved around the lab gracefully, passing around tools at each other's slightest of whims, and barely spoke as they worked diligently. Mr. Stark and Peter were both bent over the Spider-Man suit, whispering and humming as they worked on their respective tasks, and Harley had crawled under the hood of one of Mr. Stark's more neglected cars, switching out the engine in what had to be a record time, in Peter's uneducated opinion. They must have been a few hours in their work session when Harley's phone disturbed the flow by ringing obnoxiously.

"Please, excuse me," Harley muttered absentmindedly, dropping his tools on the tray next him and taking the phone out of his back pocket. Neither Mr. Stark nor Peter missed the little grin that appeared on his face as he recognised the caller and picked up quickly. He walked out of the lab to take the call, but not before the others heard him say: "Hi, Flash!" Oh… Peter turned back to the web shooter he was fine-tuning and tried to ignore the drop of his stomach.

Mr. Stark hummed in thought. "Flash? Is that the kid you mentioned-"

"It's nothing," Peter interjected firmly. His issues with Flash were his own. It would be unfair to turn Mr. Stark against a boy he had never even met before, especially since that boy was Harley's best friend. He had told Mr. Stark about Flash before, when questions arose around the fresh bruises on Peter's arm. He still remembered the way Mr. Stark's reflection turned from anger to furiousness when Peter explained that he did not play hooky in order to go on patrol during school time, but instead was repeatedly thrown into walls and lockers as he walked down the hallway. Mr. Stark had demanded the kid's name, and Peter had given in but not before he made Mr. Stark swear not to do or say anything. _"I can take it," _he remembered pleading, "_if you make him stop, he might start harassing somebody who is decidedly less equipped to take it." _Mr. Stark had reluctantly given in, because God knows that man would be a first-class hypocrite if he got on Peter's case about being self-sacrificing, on the condition that Pete would be honest with him if it got any worse. Peter, of course, hadn't.

"Peter, is Harley friends with the kid who used to bully you?" _'Used to'_, Peter mentally scoffed.

"Mr. Stark," he replied firmly. "Whoever Harley is or is not friends with is respectfully none of our business." Mr. Stark looked taken aback by Peter's bluntness, not used to hearing such seemingly unprompted defiance from the teen.

"Dully noted," he responded, keeping his eyes on Peter as the latter turned back to his web shooter. A silence fell over the pair once again, before it was broken once more by Mr. Stark's voice, uncharacteristically quiet.

"I know I've broken your trust over the past week," he spoke carefully, as if weighing every word before letting it leave his lips. "And I know I haven't done nearly enough to make up for it. I also know you've probably already forgiven me a long time ago, despite what you may be telling your Aunt May, because your self-preservation skills are arguably worse than mine. I know you feel let down by me not informing you about Harley and his arrival. I know you feel like I don't trust you, and yet demand of you to trust me. I understand that that level of trust takes time to be build back up again." Peter felt warmth bubble up in his chest and a familiar burning sensation behind his eyes. Mr. Stark saw straight through him. Although he seemed to be missing one detail… "But Peter, I ask only one thing of you in the meantime. Be honest. Either to me or your aunt. We need to know what's happening in your life, kid. I know you like to protect everyone around you, but God knows we want to keep you safe just as badly, okay? Talk to us."

Peter could only nod as he furiously wiped as his eyes, stubborn tears spilling over onto his cheeks. At that moment, the door to the lab opened back up again and Harley stepped back inside, grin on his face.

* * *

"Tony, I have a favour to ask- Woah, is everything okay?" Harley felt the smile slip off his face as he noticed Tony's serious expression and Peter's red-rimmed eyes. The latter nodded and turned back to his project, whilst Tony nodded and scraped his throat.

"What's up, kiddo?" Harley shook his head a little. _Not for him to know, then_. He ignored the slight twinge of… something… in his chest at the reminder that Tony and Peter had such a strong emotional connection and focussed on his mission.

"Ah, not much. My friend called me to ask if I wanted to come to a party he's hosting this weekend," he replied, unable to stop the grin from spreading across his face at the memory, slipping his phone into his back pocket. "Apparently, it's his birthday this week, and he invited the whole year group to come over and hang out at his place!" Tony grinned back at Harley, but behind him, Peter's movements stilled for a split second, before resuming as if nothing had happened.

"That sounds fun! I'm glad you're already making friends," he responded, turning back to the Spider-Man suit as well. "Do you know if there will be alcohol involved?"

"I don't know," Harley responded honestly, "I don't really know these people, what they're like in that regard." He picked up a tool and twirled it around in his hand, eyeing the car with scrutiny.

"Pete, you must know, right? What are the Midtown parties like?" Harley glanced over his shoulder to see Peter shrug in response to Tony.

"Fuck if I know," he muttered, bending even further over his work. Tony gave him a light shove, which didn't seem to affect Peter at all.

"Mind your language, kid! What's gotten into you?" At Peter's lack of response, Tony's head cocked as if realising something, and he leaned in close to Peter, whispering something Harley couldn't catch. Peter simply shook his head in response, and Tony sighed, backing away. Harley watched them for a moment, before clearing his throat.

"I'll be responsible, Tony," he emphasised. "I'll stay away from any alcohol, and I'll call you if I want to leave, okay?" Tony looked up from his work and offered Harley a wide smile.

"I know, Harles." Harley nodded and smiled back. Both men resumed their respective tasks, neither noticing Peter's eye roll, and the comfortable silence returned.

* * *

It's incredible, really. The bustling nature of New York City, with its screaming, ever busy and hurrying inhabitants, it's loud, honking cars and pigeon shit, so in-your-face and unavoidable. Yet it all faded into background noise when Peter was swinging. The feeling of the breeze on his face, and the roaring wind in his ears was all-encompassing, yet freeing, allowing Peter to take a break from his overactive senses to just _exist_.

"Hey, Spider-Man! Over here!" Well, ideally, that is…

Peter's head snapped in the direction from where the sound came, a dingy alley way, and instantly changed course. The person who called him over did not appear to be in distress, but Peter wasn't in a hurry. No harm done if he made a pitstop to talk to a Spider-Fan. Peter cringed at his own thoughts. For nothing other than dramatic effect, he decided to stick to the wall before rounding the corner into the alley way. From his position, just slightly overhead, he noticed that the person calling out to him was none other than Flash Thompson, who, if his frantic looking around was anything to go by, had completely lost track of Peter after calling him over. Peter decided to crawl across the wall until his face was mere inches from Flash' neck before speaking up.

"You called?"

The resulting scream sounded like a dog's squeaking toy, and Peter couldn't help the chuckle that slipped out in response. Flash turned around, dramatically clutching his chest, panting. He dropped his hands the second he registered who was across from him and took a deep breath, smoothing his hair and letting a sly smirk appear on his face.

"Hello, Spider-Man, I'm glad you've come." Peter dropped to stand on the pavement in front of Flash as a show of seriousness. As intended, it spurred the latter on to resume talking.

"Uh, I was actually wondering if, uh… Would you like to come to my birthday party this weekend?" Under his mask, Peter's eyebrows shot up. _For a kid of a CEO, he is very bad at diplomacy_.

"Your… birthday party," Peter responded slowly, letting his voice modulator do its work. "Birthday… Wait, who are you again? Am I supposed to know you?" Peter is not proud of the satisfaction he felt when he saw Flash' smile falter.

"Uh, maybe? My name's Flash, I'm… You've saved my life, actually. You… you stole my dad's… You know what, forget I said anything." Flash turned around to walk away and Peter was surprised to find the satisfaction had grown heavy and now sat like a pit of guilt in his stomach. _Oh, why did Ben and May raise me to be decent_…

"Wait up!" Flash turned around to face Peter again, the look on his face still dejected. "I, I was just messing with you, Flash, of course I remember you!" The frown on Flash' face turned into a blinding smile. "However… You gotta know, man, Spider-Man is not a party trick. You can't book me, I'm not a clown-"

"No, I know," Flash interjected. "I know, but I just…" He looked down. "There's this guy I like… I'm trying to impress him, and I know he's a big Spider-Man fan, and I'm hoping that seeing you there, and seeing us interact might-"

"You know what, fine," Peter jumped in. "I can't stay long. I'll pop in, have a chat with you and I'm out, okay? I have better things to be doing."

"Yes, yes, of course." Flash was practically jumping up and down with excitement. "Just in and out, that's totally cool. Thank you _so_ much, man!" Peter shook his head, envisioning Harley's grin when he had come back from his phone call with Flash. He looked so _happy_. And if Peter can help him maintain that happiness… Well, he had something to make up for anyway. Peter sighed and jumped up against the wall again, crawling upwards, but not before turning around to Flash one last time.

"I've gotta be honest with you, man," he spoke into the echoing alley. "If you want this guy to like you, just be yourself, okay?" Flash turned bright red and Peter turned around, vaulting himself onto the roof and off, slinging away.


End file.
